


now my heart is green as weeds

by Riseupwithfists



Category: DCU
Genre: Gen, M/M, Queer Gen, bartinnadress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-15
Updated: 2011-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riseupwithfists/pseuds/Riseupwithfists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly cheesy queer gen ficlet with Bart Allen enacting one of his favorite pastimes: exasperating Tim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now my heart is green as weeds

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Neko Case's "That Teenage Feeling".

"-do you think?"

Tim instinctively covers his work with his arm, but a few stray papers still scatter in the wake of Bart's entrance. Encouraging, entreating, begging him to knock is clearly having no effect. "Can I help you?"

"She said it works with my coloring since I'm an autumn, or maybe it was a summer, but I've been wearing reds and yellows all my life. So! What do you think!"

Tim looks up from fishing his calculus homework out of the wastebasket. Bart's wearing a dress. This in and of itself isn't that unique of an occurrence. The fact that said dress is a light coral evening gown with a sweetheart neckline and a full, very fluffy tulle skirt is a bit unique, but not out of the question considering the state of Bart's closet.

Bart pats at the spangled bodice with pride. He looks practically demure. "It's… nice," Tim says truthfully. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm making plans in advance and trying not to be so…" The hem of Bart's dress keeps lifting and fluttering around his calves as he moves. He's wearing striped socks underneath.

"Don't say 'impulsive'".

"I won't!” He's twirling now, a bit too quickly. The skirt swishes and crackles like the leaves Tim trudges through on his school grounds. “And Batman gives you nights off if you ask in advance, I bet, he must, so if I ask you now, you won't have an excuse. Unless you say that you have a date with Justice or something. Say.” Bart pauses, catching sight of his reflection in the window. “I do look pretty smart. Kory said I could always try on a few of her old frocks under proper supervision, but I don't know if I wanna go the falsies route. What do you think, Tim? False bosom or no?”

Tim can usually hop onto the tail-end of Bart's trains of thought, but he's blindsided and blinking today with a migraine threatening to come on. “Simplicity may be best,” he offers. He should know where this is going. There are only about a dozen warning signs going off in his head.

“I guess you're right. Besides, you're in charge here. Date's choice!”

Oh. Oh, no. “Bart.”

“Yes?”

Tim tries to verify one piece of information at a time. “Forgive me for not immediately following, but you're asking me out somewhere.” Bart's head blurs into a nod. “Which involves you wearing a ballgown and-” His mind fills with sudden horror. “Is that a requirement for me as well?”

“Hey, I bet you'd look good! I bet you've done it before, for Justice and stuff. But no, you don't have to.” Tim wants to breathe a sigh of relief, but he's sure that worse is yet to come. “I think the prom committee would throw a fit if we both show up wearing dresses.”

Tim was right. “Bart? It's November. Isn't prom, you know.” He presses at his temples. “Doesn't that happen in spring?”

“Advance planning, Tim!” Now he's doing cartwheels across Tim's floor. “You should be proud of me.”

“For asking me to prom?”

“I thought about Kon, seeing as he's pretty All American in spite of himself, but are you kidding? The guy barely knows his table settings, he's a barbarian. Whereas you look really nice in formalwear. I've checked.” Newspaper clippings and print-outs get shoved under Tim's nose. He must have been trawling the past several years of the Gotham Gazette society pages for these.

Tim browses the top few pages. “This is how you- Bart, I'm eleven here.”

“-and Gar isn't an option, not that I'd ask him but green next to my complexion? Anyways, he'd say no. And I know that you clean up nice, and plus you're my friend, so that's a lot easier.” He's bouncing on the balls of his feet now, looking at Tim expectingly. “So, what do you say?”

Tim should say no. Tim should say no.

The dress does bring out Bart's eyes.

“I'll have to check my calendar.”

Bart hops a bit, apparently overcome with glee. “That's a yes, isn't it? I'll take that as a yes.” Tim's swept off of his chair and into Bart's arms. He appears to be trying an impromptu waltz.

He bets Dick was never press-ganged like this. He should ask-

No, Dick can never hear about this. Dick would encourage the press-ganging. Dick would take pictures.

Tim should look into corsages, though. Something to match the dress.


End file.
